Their departure, therefore,
was not lamented, and the natives were glad to get rid of them.
We ourselves boarded the steamer for Fort McMurray on the 11th, but,
owing to bad weather, did not get off till midday, and even then the
lake was so rough that we had to anchor for a while in the lee of an
island. Colin Fraser had started ahead of us with his big scow and
cargo of furs, valued at $15,000, and kept ahead with his fine crew
of ten expert trackers. When the weather calmed we steamed across to
the entrance of one of the various channels connecting the Athabasca
River with the lake, and soon found ourselves skirting the most
extensive marshes and feeding-grounds for game in all Canada; a
delta renowned throughout the North for its abundance of waterfowl,
far surpassing the St. Clair flats, or any other region in the East.
Next morning, upon rounding a point, three full-grown moose were
seen ahead, swimming across the river. An exciting, and even hazardous,
scene ensued on board, the whole Klondike crowd firing, almost at
random, hundreds of shots without effect. Two of the noble brutes
kept on, and reached the shore, disappearing in the woods; but the
third, a three year-old bull moose, foolishly turned, and lost its
life in consequence. It was hauled on deck, bled and flayed, and
was a welcome addition to the steamer's table.
That night a concert was improvised on deck, in which the music-hall
element came to the front.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158